Clockwatching
by Juveniliare
Summary: For a moment, she stopped mattering at time and those irrelevancies’s bullshit.Maybe together they will clock watching over the small screen of her tiny cell phone. Waiting for orders. Enjoying the separators blinks. Clockwatching, still. But together.


My first Ichiruki post. Full of grammatical errors and typo's pwease bear with it…

Luvies… ~Ju.

* * *

Clockwatching

Once, his life was more like waiting and watching the rain in silence. He used to sit down in front of the window while listening to the pattering noise when the raindrops fell on his window glass. With the company of the monotonous sound his wall clock produce while he counted in silence the seconds when he prayed for the rain to stop.

Tick

Tick

Tick

And he hates it.

He hates his clock and its stupid sound. Every noise the second hand of time creates reminded him of those moments when he can do absolutely nothing. Of his vulnerability. Of his weakness. Of his 'specialness' (seeing ghost in this case) but still unable to do something meaningful (for them. He used to ignore them and play-pretend that they were part of his annoying imagination. Or it was part of the after effect of his father's bashful 'bash') and also, his inability to save his mother on that cold cold rainy night.

He remembers gazing at the clock wall that hung on the dark corridor before the clinic room at that night. He remembers on how hard he prayed for god to just stop the time and rewind it for a few hours back. He remember seeing his Father walked out of the room with eyes red at the brim and his weight when he hugged him close enough to make him choke. Choking him from his father's forceful grip and the tears pouring from his eyes.

And now, back with his rain and clock watching, he hates it.

Just sitting, watching and listening (and praying) to the synchronized sound of the rain and the clock.

Just clockwatching.

* * *

'Time' used to be an irrelevant term for her. The life after death has positioned her close to the brink of the immortal being. For almost 30 years her height hasn't changed. Her best (bestest best) friend still looming over her like a giant tower. For 40 years her hair hasn't lengthen. Which only add her tomboy and non-lady alike figure that brings her those disapproval looks from her nii-sama. And for 50 years, her feeling of guilt towards _him_ hasn't decreased for one bit of a tiny fraction.

During the period of her first night on the Living World, she used to sit down on a particular random rooftop. Clutching her cell phone which also serves her as her soul society communication device, her hollow radar, and her texting buddy with her best red-haired buddy, and the holder of her Chappy the Rabbit cell phone strap. It was an animation character in the form of a bubbly eyed bunny with the normal white fur and normal long ears with pink filling. She cant stop being crazy about it. And so, during her very first night, upon discovering the bunny shaped cell phone strap on the Urahara Shotenshop counter, she immediately took purchase of it.

And now, here she is. Sitting. And Waiting. The two dots that lined vertically that separate the hour's digit and the minute's digits blinked. Showing the seconds that have passed from the digital clock on her tiny cell phone screens.

And so, she sits and waits and clock watching. Drowned in her ridiculous immortality and irrelevant concept of time, she clock watching. Drowned in her memories of the past and the _guilt_, she clock watching.

Just clockwatching.

* * *

They met.

Boy meets girl. There were no sparkle sparkles moments (except for the sparkly bunny she drew for him to explain her ascribed status as Shinigami). There were gasping. A kick. A shout. And a restraining kidou.

And then, he was stunned. And she was shocked. A scream. Then Yuzu, Karin and his father. It was as if the time _did _rewind it self. It was as if he was experiencing the moment when his mother in blood and all again. The pang. The vulnerability. The rage, again_. Again. _

And then there was blood.

And an offer, a chance! A life changing one to be exact.

* * *

The 'time' stopped. Disregarding her unmutual understanding towards the term 'time', she was sure that the 'time' just stopped. The blade was pierced to his body, exactly at his heart. She can hear his ragged breath that was edged with fear, excitement over the newly acquired power and the scream of the hollow in the background (one of the random thing she can figure at those moments). And she noted in irony at how similar he can be with _him._ His face contour, his eye, his action, his pride and hastiness, minus his hair (he didn't realize at how she noted carefully all of this new information when he loomed at her. He was too busy gathering up courage and shoving away the rational part of his mind to scram away and pretend all of this was just a dream.) And also at how he (the orange boy, who will then be known as the strawberry boy) fits into her outstretch hand which held a blade perfectly. Like _him_.

Right in the heart.

Deep in her mind she can see her katana's spirit smiling to her in that sad way. And so she prayed, _Don't die. Don't die. Don't die..!_

She shut her eyes and beg for the gods to prevent the past from happening again. She doesn't want to see her pristine white katana with his blood (again). She doesn't want to kill. To bring death, regarding her status as the death god.

And so, maybe that's why she gave him her power. She gave him life. And she instead gives him all of her power. Albeit the fact that she always denied it and rather blamed him for his tardiness, Sodeno Shirayuki will always hide her smile behind her kimono's sleeve and chuckled lightly at what ever statement her soul mate made.

For a moment, she stopped mattering at time and those irrelevancies's bullshit. She realized that if her action will led her to one of her worst case scenario, she's going to need him as her substitution.

_He dodge. And swing his meat cutler katana. Never in her wicked dream can she imagine that soul reaper to be the image of her Sodeno Shirayuki in his version._

Maybe together they will clock watching over the small screen of her tiny cell phone. Waiting for orders. Enjoying the separators blinks.

_The final slash. And the hollow went down. And in a very disturbing way he posed and muttering something that seemed ridiculous. And then he went down. And she was left jaw dropping._

Clockwatching, still. But together.

Maybe its not going to be so bad. Hopefully.

* * *

It's been awhile since he really paid attention at the time his watch showed. Except when its time to wake up, break time during school, time to dodge his father's super kick, time to study and time to sleep. The rest, the numerical 'time' just flowed naturally. Either way, he always has a certain midget to remind him of the rest.

"Ichigo! Breakfast!"

"Ichigo! School!"

"Ichigo! Hollow!"

"Ichigo! Its Chappy time!"

"Ichigo! Guard the bathroom!"

"Ichigo! Ichigo! Ichigo!"

And how the hell can he check his watch when he has a pint sized she-demon glaring at him as if she has miraculously gained 10 inches height? Not to mention the low jab and the kick from her petite feet (it's small, cute and deadly. That he has experience first handed) right to his crotch (see? Deadly...).

Thus he stops paying attention to the time (because every moment he spends with her seems to be an eternity.) He stops counting the seconds that passed (because it's soo wrong to count the seconds before she explode by the word 'midget') And he stop glaring at the second hand of time during a midnight downpour (because he's too busy wondering -not worrying, mind you! See the denial here?- over the habitants of his closet was doing in that rainy night.)

It's clockwatching, no more….

* * *

"Cuz, you're the one who stop me from Clockwatching" *.

* * *

All the time in the world seems to be not enough for him. Being with her, from nothing to something. From boring to thrilling. There was always something to talk about. Be it a petty remarkable squabble, or teaching her integral a calculus equation, or listening to her explicit narration about yesterday's Chappy the Bunny serial or probably hunting for hollows. There was always something to do.

Slowly the feeling grew. And change. It sometime feels like an erupting volcano. Or bubbles crawling under his skin. And butterfly lurching on his stomach, feelings he's not supposed to feel. Because…

Damn!

It's Kuchiki Rukia we're talking about! It's the five feet tall she-demon he's having a crush to! It's his nakama! Ichigo Kurosaki is definitely NOT falling for his best friend! It's wrong, it's unethical, it's impossible. It's her brother, it's her best red haired friend, and it's her 'life'. It's her obsession to Chappy the Freakin Bunny, it's her height, it's about how she retort his every statement, it's her sardonic smirk, it's her eyes (purple-violet-shinny-glimmering-starry.. wait a minute..!!), it's her hips swinging in her every step, it's her laugh, it's her….. Whoooa, hold your horse there amigo.

He's denying it. And Ichigo Kurosaki apparently DO know what will happen when he realize that he **is **denying it. Acceptance is always a step easier when we realize about **it**.

Not to mention about being jealous. God knows how many times she made him jealous over something very random. Be it Keigo who have been ogling her like crazy since the first day, or her fanatic love over bunny bunny Chappy ,or her mentioning Renji over and over again.

"_Ichigooo…. I still can't understand why Yuzu pour ketchup on the spaghetti when there already a tomato on it."_

"_So that it will taste better."_

"_But doesn't natural tomatoes taste better than the bottled one? Something about chemical and unnatural?"_

"…_. Since when did you care anyway?"_

_Rukia pulled out a magazine from her bag, flipped it to a certain page and shoved it to Ichigo's nose. It was an article of healthy life and steps to do for an even healthier life. And on list number 65 (God knows how long the list can be) tomato in a bottle is no-no option. Something about unnaturally preserved and dangerous artificial red colour._

Che, Red. Told you its no good.

"_Orihime showed me this article during break. She said that if we want to live longer and healthier, we have to do as the article said."_

"_It's not like it's going to affect you anyway. You're dead already."_

_THWACK. Ichigo mentally add the number of bruises on his head. If he wants to live longer, forget about tomato on bottle or junk food, better mind over his mouth and certain petite (remember live long? No 'midget' saying. No 'midget', no 'midget, no 'midg….) woman._

"_So… If Yuzu make spaghetti next time, are you going to use ketchup sauce?"_

"_I guess no. I believe it's better if we stay with the natural one. Besides, I don't think I really like the red colour on the ketchup sauce. It looks rather unnatural."_

Red is bad, red is unnatural._ Ichigo can only smirked and start doing the victory dance mentally._ Too bad Renji! You're bad and you're unnatural!!

_Bad ass Ichigo has lost it. Yep, strawberry boy now can mop over a certain Rukia who favoured Tomato more than Strawberry (but strawberry is also red, ne? But it doesn't matter. Since he is __**her **__ichigo-ichigo-strawberry boy.) Jealousy. Red. Tomato and strawberry. The wonders of it is unlimited._

_

* * *

  
_

It was raining. The raindrops pounding over his window create an illusion of harmony and peace. He was gazing at the clock on the wall. The second hand of time moved. Every movement was slow and excruciating for him. As if teasing. Mocking for no apparent reason.

The reassuring weight beside him calmed him. He can trail her backbone with his eyes. He can trail with his fingers every jutted rib on her back and savour the milky white expanse of her skin. Her closed eye lids, hiding from the world her passionate violet orbs. Her eyelashes, beautifully long and sleek resting on her white pale cheeks. Her body, such a fragile body like a glass. Delicately beautiful in its intensity yet easy to break and shattered into small pieces when falling to the ground. He used his arm to wound over her small frame and gathered her form close to him. Close enough for him to be tickled by her constant and rhythmical breath.

He wanted to protect it. To protect her body and her heart from any damage. The heart filled with passion and love. But for now, all he can do is sit. And pray. And watch her sleep in peace.

Once again, Ichigo landed his eyes to the rain scenery out side. For once he was grateful of the rain. He certainly didn't want his family to wake up during his time spent with Rukia on that certain night. Pop will have a field day, and Byakuya will chop his head and mince what ever left of his body if he knows about this night. And know he sits. Not alone, unlike the last time when he's 'enjoying' the rain. And now he watch, not the rain but her (her and her only). And he's praying (for the god to stop the time. Not rewind fastened or replay. But to stop, for he wants this moment with her to be forever and ever.) And as he eyed the clock on the wall, he clock watching.

Clockwatching.

* * *

* (the note I revered at somewhere up there) 'Clockwatching' was inspired by Jason Mraz's song. Although after further investigation by the author, turns out that the song have completely nothing to do with the fic. Author (meh) confused the song 'clockwatching', 'wordplay', and 'plane', which came along from the same album 'Mr. A-Z'. And after even more intense listening and lyric-surf, turns out that author was writing the fic out of no source of inspiration.

But author is still insisting to heard the phrase _"Cuz, you're the one who stop me from Clockwatching"_ from the said song...

I hope its not too narrative alike. And I hope its not too monologue. Enjoy.. and reerrererereee**review**!!!


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